I'm Lovin' It More Than I Should
by Frerardlover
Summary: America doesn’t know how long he’s had these urges, but if they aren’t fulfilled, he’ll go crazy. America/Hamburgers.


**I'm Lovin' It More Than I Should**

America cannot recall how long he has possessed these strange urges. Could it have always been there subconsciously and only now has he become aware of its existence, or has it only sprung up out of the blue only recently? Both theories are equally plausible, but America couldn't tell you which one held more truth.

His first encounter of sexual pleasure surrounding a hamburger began in a dream. It was abstract and America barely remembered it in the morning, the dream becoming a fleeting thought as he readied himself for work. After that, there was an odd feeling that would overcome him if he saw a hamburger, with advertisements and the real thing in his hands. The only way he could describe it would be a 'feel good' emotion. It took America some time to realize he could be aroused by the mere thought of a fresh, steaming burger on a bun. When the epiphany stuck him, it hit hard, leaving him alone, lost, and perturbed.

It has been a few months now that the hero has been plagued with the yearning dealing with hamburgers, but not once has he entertained the idea of actually indulging in the action. America has heard of food play and fetishes, but this is on a completely different level for the sole fact that there is no partner to be had. He literally wants to fuck a burger, or many hamburgers, in fact. The thought is as confusing as it is disgusting and bizarre in his mind. That is to say, he is in no way a stranger to sex.

America has committed an undeterminable number of sexual acts with more people than he can remember offhandedly, humans and country personifications alike. He intimately knows of Marilyn Monroe's tricks of the trade as well as the typical bedroom behavior of France, England, and Russia, just to name a few. Being with a woman or man to him,--with oral, vaginal or anal intercourse by the means of giving, taking by a man or the act of pegging by a woman--the gender does not matter. Sex is sex, as is the same with love, regardless of the genitals attached.

America has researched his problem online, but to no avail. This type of fixation always involves another person. How is it that he can rid himself of this fixation if no one else has ever been diagnosed? There is no way he could tell anyone of this issue or else suffer embarrassment. Even Canada would laugh, though he would most likely do his best to cover it up with a cough to spare his feelings.

There is no telling how long America could last like this. Hamburgers are his all-time favorite food. It is not as if he could toss the burger away like a stack of old newspapers; He would rather die than do that. On the flip side, being in such close contact and consuming the object of his current and long-lasting fixation could throw him over the edge. It is a lose-lose situation no matter how America looks at it, so he defaults to enduring it until the fetish eventually tapers off.

Unfortunately, America cracks under the pressure within a month of internally pledging his endurance. He has had it with the taunting displays in newspapers, billboards, television commercial ads, and so on. Masturbating to pictures online as if they are pornography is not doing the job. The desire to fully indulge has persisted and increased with the passage of time, so the man admits defeat and decides if he is going down, he is doing it with gusto.

America orders hamburgers from several chain-restaurants--like McDonald's, Burger King, Wendy's, ect.--with a multitude of combinations of toppings. Some have cheese, lettuce, and tomato, while others consist of lettuce, pickles, ketchup, and mustard. They are all still very much hot when he hauls the various colored bags home and America quickly tosses them on the bed and fires up the grill. He has already prepared the condiments on the kitchen counter and defrosted hamburger patties. His arousal is rising as he observes the slices of beef browning and sizzling on the grill. He cooks them as quickly and thoroughly as he can so he may keep up this fast pace in the kitchen and continue on to the bedroom.

Once there, America strips off his clothing, not caring where the articles fall in his rush, and organize the hamburgers on the top sheet that he could care less if it stains in this event. The sheer number of them is perfect, lined up side-by-side until they completely cover the mattress in a layer of hot, juicy goodness.

America is shaking as he gazes upon the hamburgers, unsure of how to proceed. What has been tormenting him over the past few months can finally be satisfied. He takes a breath and picks up a burger, choosing to start out slow and see how he feels. The blonde rubs the burger on the skin of his chest, testing. It feels good so far, as if someone was giving him light, hot kisses there. He separates the two buns and rubs the insides up and down his torso.

"Fuck, that feels so much better," America moans aloud, not knowing he has done so. Looking down, he can see the mess he is making, ketchup, mustard, mayo, and so much more being smeared on his tanned skin. His erection throbs and twitches at the eroticism of the action. He breathes harshly out of his nose and closes his eyes, trailing the buns in different directions, creating nonsensical patterns and swirls on his torso, around his neck, and up his arms. It is the most aroused he has ever felt in his life, and this is only one hamburger. He opens his eyes, stares at the bed for a moment, then makes his move.

America crawls on the bed and lays facedown. He is surrounded by warm hamburgers. The contrasting textures of sesame seed buns and non-seeded buns feels absolutely fantastic. He begins thrusting his hips slightly, rutting into the burgers in the vicinity of his penis. The man grips hard onto the burgers by his hands and swipes the neighboring ones toward himself into a hugging motion of sorts as he continues to move his pelvis.

America is hot all over, can feel the sweat along his hairline, back, and legs. He stops for the moment, doing his best to catch his breath, and flips over. He grabs a hamburger he has not at all crushed with weight yet and opens it a bit. America forces his rock hard erection into the small gap and gasps at the initial sensation. Keeping the buns together in a firm hold, he is successful in fucking the burger. The nation cannot take much more of this and climaxes into the hamburger. He takes big gulps of air until his breathing is steadied. As he looks down at the soiled burger in his hands, America is overcome with the urge to eat it. Following his impulses, he does just that and takes a bite.

His hamburger with cheese, bacon, celery, ketchup, and cum melts in his mouth. Neurons in his brain are shooting off pleasure impulses like fireworks on the Fourth of July. America lets out a satisfied groan after he swallows it down. As he eats, he can feel himself recovering quickly, his erection at full attention about quarter way through the burger. He has never associated sex with food so closely before, and he is loving it.

Done with eating for the moment, America grabs two untouched burgers, one in each hand, and covers himself from head to toe with them. When he is completely covered and the burgers are all but soggy and crumbled remains in his hands, he wants more. Flat on his back again, he concentrates on the single burger being run across his face and masturbates with his other hand. It is not long for the hamburger to reach his testicles. America's breath hitches at the direct stimulation and his right hand goes even faster, in tandem with the burger in his other hand rolling his balls. He ejaculates quickly on his stomach with a sharp cry.

Left panting yet again, America realizes his sex drive is not deterred whatsoever. He takes another break by dipping a burger in the semen pooled around his naval--much like he does French Toast sticks--and consumes it slowly.

Cock hardened yet again, America decides he must go all out if he ever wants to stop this cycle. He does quick work of rubbing himself down, front and back, as he has done previously and turns over on his hands and knees. From there, he configures all of the burgers into a pile directly underneath his hips. He positions his penis just right so he may successfully fuck the condensed grouping of hamburgers. His pace is slow at the beginning, but picks up as the minutes pass. Some slip out of place with the movement of the mattress and force of America's thrusts, resulting in America dropping his hands down to keep them together.

Face turned to the side as to breathe properly and not be facedown into the sheets, he grunts and groans his satisfaction, so happy he finally indulged in his strange fetish. Fucking these hamburgers has been the best sex and overall experience he has had in his life. No other time has America felt so amazing, the constant tingling and electrical shocks pulsing through his entire body. All too soon does he feel his climax building, the tell-tale sign of his stomach muscles and balls tightening warning him of his completion. America lifts himself up so he may finish one last time, hard all over the pile of hamburgers. He collapses from exhaustion and relaxes where he lays.

After a few minutes of recovery, he rolls off of his burgers and pulls them closer to the head of the mattress. A lot of them are crushed beyond recognition and covered in cum. America smiles at his handiwork and picks one up. It tastes just as delicious as his previous two, but this time, he doesn't get a hard-on. Relieved, the American eats his burgers in peace until he drifts off to sleep, his once disgusted urge something much more beautiful and satisfying than he could have ever imagined.

**The End **


End file.
